Crimson Snow
by Lymz Gro-Bakh
Summary: A sell-sword's hunt. ((This is my very first short story. I am dipping my toes in writing, so please offer you advice. Thanks!))


**Crimson Snow: A Hunter's Tale**

The leather groaned in protest as Terrac tightened his grip on the chilled hand-and-a-half sword that was poised faithfully in his hand. The old leather binding he had had on his weapon had worn down to the point that it would mean his death if the leather broke at the wrong time. He cursed himself for not breaking in the leather before setting out on the task he was being paid for.

He adjusted his grip on his blade as his mark came into view from the tree line on the other side of the road. He gasped at the size of the beast before him. When he had accepted the advance payment from the flustered nobleman, the man had failed to describe the size of the beast. The sabercat would come up chest high to Terrac when on all fours. Terrac was large, even by orcish standards, but this beast before him made him feel very meek and small.

He could easily imagine the creatures paws crushing his skull as easily as it packed the snow down in its impressive gait. It large head swiveled on a neck with a girth that would make swallowing the the limbs of his employers caravan an easy feat. The beasts fangs were longer than Terrac's parrying knife, and with the fabled jaw strength of the species, Terrac decided that a head on assault would render him unable to spend the wealthy sum of gold he would have been paid for this job.

Through sizing up his adversary, he lowered his cowl and exhaled into the brisk dawn air. The fog of his breath told him that he would be undetected by smell and therefore would have advantage of surprise on the beast. After all, who hunts the hunter?

Terrac replaced his cowl and strafed along the tree line, until the sabercat was facing the completely away from where he crouched in the undergrowth. The cat began to meander further into the woods. As soon as the beast was out of sight the orc followed, making sure to keep a healthy distance from the beast, using trees as cover as he did so. As he tread where the cat had trod to avoid making telltale crunching sound in the snow, he thought back to when his father was first teaching him how to hunt.

His father had taught the young orc that existence was only certain trough what you can experience, and that experiences were a culmination of your senses. If you make a beast unable to see, hear, and smell you, then you do not exist to your prey. Gor'am was indeed a wise father. That is the reason he was chief of the Settlement. But this was years ago. A painful and distracting memory for Tarrac.

His breathing quickened as he brought himself back to reality. Wielding his steel Hand-and-a-half sword in his left hand and drawing his razor sharp iron dagger with his right, he increased its pace and stalked into the clearing where the sabercat was busy investigating a rough weed that had sprung from the snow. Ten yards off, and close to running pace he silently hefted the longer blade and broke into a run as he threw the sword at his hulking prey.

The sabercat spun at the sound of the approach of his would-be killer. Just a he faced the on rushing orc the length if the steel blade bit into the left shoulder of the beast. The monster cried out in shock and disbelief and lunged at Terrac. The orc, expecting this response, quickly rolled to the right, taking advantage of the beasts injured shoulder, and sinking his dagger hilt deep in the base of the creature's neck. The hot scarlet blood soaking his leather fingerless glove.

The injured cat roared weakly, bucking madly in a vain attempt to escape. Terrac jumped from the ground and onto the cat's back, riding it to the ground and dodging the animals attempts to claw and bite. The cat fell to its left side trapping Terrac's right leg under its considerable weight. The cats attempts at retaliation adopted the slow lethargic air of the futile. Its breathing came in short ragged intervals.

Terrac slowly pulled himself free of the beast and knelt down by it's head. He pulled the knife free and cleaned it on the snow.

"You are a magnificent creature" he gently whispered in the dying cats ear. "You are strong, fierce, courageous and proud. Malacath himself praises you. Fear not, for you will be exalted in the afterlife. I now give you a warriors death."

With that Terrac delivered the final blow and laid the beast down to rest, crimson and majestic in the snow.


End file.
